


whatever you say in the dark

by Ladymercury_10



Category: Morning Glories
Genre: AV Club, Dreams and Dreamsharing, Gen, Issue #47 coda, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladymercury_10/pseuds/Ladymercury_10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Survival strategies, lucid dreaming with friends, and other totally normal things to practice over the weekend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	whatever you say in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brella/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, brella! Your letter was a ton of fun to read and I really enjoyed writing this for you. 
> 
> Title from Daughter.

In a patch of trees at the edge of campus, Casey turns the apple in her hands, glossy red rolling from palm to palm. She smiles down at it, a little smile, a secret. The sun shines and the grass is soft and Hunter thinks this must be the first good thing these woods have seen in a long time. Forever, maybe. Casey looks up at him, and the smile reaches her eyes. She leans forward, and she might be about to kiss him or say something, but whatever it is Hunter doesn't get to find out. There's a wave of cold, a piece of ice smacks against his forehead, and that's when he realizes someone's dumped a glass of water over his head. He wakes up coughing and blinking water out of his eyes.

"Oh, good," Ike says. "You're awake."

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Hunter says, rolling onto his side and rubbing at his face. His ribs hurt when he coughs.

"I'm not a monster," Ike says. "I did hold the alarm directly beside your ear for a full ninety seconds first."

Hunter makes a grumbling noise into his soggy pillow. "You know that doesn’t work on me."

"C'est la vie." Ike sets the glass on the dresser and shrugs. "Come on, now, up."

"It's the weekend." Hunter shuts his eyes.

"It's a twenty-four hour news cycle. The political machine rests for no man. Up, or the next glass is all ice."

Hunter groans and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. His ribs complain again. "I feel terrible."

"That'll be the hangover," says Ike, slipping on his jacket and gathering his things. He picks up his scarf and loops it around his neck with his free hand.

"I had, like, half a beer."

"Yes, it's a pity some of us can't hold our liquor."

"It's not an alcohol thing!" Hunter says. "I got whacked in the stomach with a security baton! How are you so chipper this morning?"

Ike stops on his way out the door and sighs. "As I said, some of us have stronger stomachs than others. I have business to attend to. Pull yourself together, collect your little friends, and get me that newspaper endorsement."

The door slams shut behind him, startling the others awake. "Yeah, well, joke's on you, asshole," Hunter calls after him. "We have all our important meetings when we're sleeping."

Guillame throws a pillow at him, which is probably fair.

   
*  
 

It takes a while to round everyone up and convince them all to go back to sleep, but finally Hunter crawls under the covers and wakes up on the saggy AV room couch next to Hannah and Esi. Ian is cross-legged on the floor. The AV cart sits in the middle of the room, and Andres stands beside it, hands clasped at his waist.

"Ahh," Andres says. "Now that everyone is here, we can get started." He starts pushing buttons on the ancient VCR.

"Wait, wait, wait. We're just going to watch a movie?" Hunter says.

"No, of course we're not just going to watch a movie," Hannah says. "We're going to watch Star Wars."

"In case you're having trouble counting, that's three movies," Ian adds. Hannah flicks the back of Ian's head.

Hunter ignores them and sits forward on the edge of the couch. "It's just, I was thinking that after the party last night, now might be a good time to do a political piece—strike while the iron is hot, you know? We could run an endorsement—"

Hannah snorts. "More like get struck while the iron is hot." Esi rests her hand on Hannah's knee, placating, but she doesn't disagree. She has a dark bruise high on her cheekbone and another on the back of her arm.

Andres sighs. "Hunter, my friend, now is not the time. Right now, it is better we should lay low, keep out of trouble. Even relax a little."

"But what happened last night—people deserve to know."

"And they do know. They do not need us to tell them. They were there, they saw it, or they have friends who did. This is not our responsibility. We can afford to lick our wounds this time. For a little while, at least."

Hunter looks around him, at the deep purple of Esi's bruises, the scratches on Hannah's arms. Andres' slumped shoulders and the set of Ian's jaw. He takes a deep breath and feels a sharp pain in his side.

"It's a good cover," Esi offers. "If the faculty are watching. We are the AV club—we watch movies. The best lies are the ones that are a little bit true."

"Also," Andres says, holding up the VHS cover. "If you think about it, it really is a very political film. After all, our lovely princess is both a freedom fighter and a senator."

Hunter can't think of a good counter-argument for that. The tape slides into the player with a click, and just like that they're in a galaxy far, far away. Andres flicks off the lights and joins them on the couch as the long white star destroyer sails across the screen. Pinprick stars flicker in the dark, and then bright corridors hiss with the sound of automatic doors. Hunter relaxes a little. Andres's shoulder feels solid against his, and Hannah's long hair tickles his arm. The AV room is warm, and Hunter thinks he could fall asleep here, if he weren't already dreaming. He leans back against the cushions, closes his eyes, and listens to the sounds of a rebellion finding hope.

   
*  
 

Ten minutes into the next movie, Hunter feels a chill on his face and something melting down his neck, and for a brief, glorious moment he thinks he's discovered something amazing. He's not just dreaming the movie, he's in it, boots on the snowy ground of Hoth, an icy cave cooling the air around him. Then someone is calling his name, bored and detached, and he wakes up to a pile of half-melted ice cubes and Ike tapping his fingers against the empty glass.

Hunter mashes a hand against his face. "Oh my god, are you serious right now?" he asks. "Again?"

"We had an agreement," Ike says, still drumming his fingers idly on the glass.

"Okay, first, of all, I didn't agree to anything." Hunter sits up, and several ice cubes slide onto the floor. "And besides that, I was  _at the meeting_. The meeting you have to be asleep to attend. Which I explained to you. Several times."

"Mm." Ike looks unimpressed. "And what exactly were you doing at this meeting? Publishing the endorsement my candidate—"

"Her name is Casey—"

"—the endorsement my candidate, Casey Blevins, was promised?"

Hunter crosses his arms.

"Printing the endorsement? Writing the endorsement? Have you even pitched the endorsement?"

Hunter doesn't answer, but his resolve falters a little.

"Well, then," Ike says. "Asked and answered."

   
*  
 

Hunter taps his pencil against his nose. The library is so quiet he can hear the wheels on the book cart squeak, and he would kill for a distraction right now. Metaphorically, although he feels disturbingly certain that the faculty has a more literal option at the ready. But even if killing were, distressingly, an option, the library is so empty even that wouldn't get him very far. Hunter sighs and puts his head down on the table. He's afraid to go back to his room without a finished endorsement, just in case Ike has something worse than ice to dump on him, but his notes so far are not promising. The first page reads

> It is the opinion of  _The Answer_ 's editorial board that Casey Blevins is not just a strong candidate for student council president, she is the strongest possible candidate. She has proven herself to be dedicated in her search for answers, a constant advocate for the safety of all students, and
> 
> just really brave and awesome and generally the best?
> 
> or something like that
> 
> if they taught us anything in this goddamn school besides how to answer trivia questions while drowning maybe I would know how to write a formal endorsement
> 
> this is just one of many issues this candidate could address
> 
> in conclusion, vote Casey Blevins

  
There is no second page.

It's probably hopeless at this point. Maybe he should look for a style manual, or a writing guide. Maybe if he waits here long enough, the club meeting will end, Hannah's library shift will start, and he can convince her to write it. Or maybe he could just take a nap. Just a little one. Just until the movies are over and Hannah gets here. He didn't sleep much last night, between the party and the beatings and the glass of ice water poured over his head. He's pretty far back in the reference section, and even if Ike thinks to look for him here, you can’t bring drinks to the library. He lets his pen roll down the table and closes his eyes. Maybe it’ll be okay.

Almost immediately, an alarm starts to blare, so then again, maybe not.

   
*  
 

"Goooooood afternoon, Em-Gee-Ay!" Pamela's voice shrieks over the PA. "As we all know, Sundays are fun days, and what could be more fun than practicing emergency evacuation procedure?"

Hunter sweeps his things into his book bag. The librarian is waving a few other students towards the door, and Hunter shuffles over to join them.

"As you may have gathered from the sirens and the super nifty strobe lights, this is a fire drill!" Pamela continues. "But this isn't any ordinary drill, oh no! As fun as they are, I think we all know everybody's done one of those before—totally middle-school, you know? No, in order to "fire" you up, we planned this drill with a twist! Somewhere on campus there is a real! Actual! Fire!"

"Well, that's not disturbing at all," Hunter says to no one in particular. He's only a couple yards from the outer door, so he's not really worried, although he wonders distantly which building  _is_  on fire, and whether they’ll let it burn down. It could be his dorm. Can you get in trouble for losing your homework if the faculty started the fire?

"I wish I knew where the fire was," says a girl in front of him as she pushes open the door. "I'd bring an accelerant." She turns to look at him over her shoulder, and Hunter's heart does a little jump.

"Casey!" he says as they step outside. "I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah, well, you weren't supposed to." Hunter opens his mouth and she says, "No, no, sorry. It's not you. I'm just—ugh, it hasn't even been a whole day and I'm already sick of talking to people about the party. I thought the library would be quiet."

"Yeah, I'm hiding from Ike," Hunter says, kicking absently at the grass. It's starting to get cold out, the sun dimming over the horizon. "I'm working on your endorsement and he throws stuff at me whenever he thinks I'm slacking off."

"I'll tell him to stop." Casey says. The last light catches on her hair as she twists it up into a messy bun. "He's a dick. But he's efficient, so I can't even be properly mad at him, which is infuriating."

"That sucks."

"Yeah." Casey fishes a pencil out of her pocket and sticks it in her hair, pauses with her hands lifted. "Actually, politics just sucks generally. And this place. Which was sort of the point of doing this, so I guess I can't complain."

"The circle of life?" Hunter suggests.

Casey sighs heavily, letting her arms drop to her sides. "Yeah, well, let's just hope we're still alive at the end of this."

"Well," Hunter says. "We did survive the fire drill. With actual fire. So there's that."

"Because it was so hard to walk out of the library and down the stairs," Casey says dubiously. "But sure. Score one for us."

"And neither of us have killed Ike yet. Or been killed by Ike," he adds.

Casey bites the corner of her mouth like she's holding back a smirk. "That one's cutting pretty close to the line. But yeah."

"So see? You're not even president yet and we're off to a great start already."

Casey doesn't say anything to that, but she bumps her shoulder lightly against his and smiles, small and tired but genuine. For just a minute, Hunter really believes that it could all work out, that everyone will be okay. For that minute, he's not cold anymore, not worried about the endorsement or the faculty or anything else. Then Casey's elbow brushes his chest and he remembers how much his ribs hurt. Sees the black bruise ringing her arm. From inside the library the fire alarm is still blaring, Pamela's voice still shrill in the background, and okay, this place really, really sucks. But just for a minute it didn't, and maybe there'll be another minute when it doesn't, and maybe someday they'll find a place where there are so many good minutes they won't be interrupted, where there are so many good minutes they finally lose count. 


End file.
